A Bible To The Head
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: "You called me a tampon? Seriously?" When Sam has another nightmare and Dean's drunker than hell at 2 am, the Winchester comedic streak comes out in pissed-off bible-throwing ways and the insults and swearwords fly.


It was two am. Dean had stumbled in from the bar about as drunk as usual and had been laying facedown on his bed for about twenty minutes now, trying not to drool on his bed sheets and listening to Sam's even breathing from the bed beside him.

Dean had been contemplating rolling over for the last few minutes, but ultimately decided he was comfiest right where he was at, clothes and all. Sleeping in his jeans and jacket was acceptable every now and then. The bedside light was also on, but he didn't really give a damn about that either.

He was almost asleep when the sound of rustling and moaning drew him back to consciousness.

Dean sighed and looked blearily over at Sam.

"Yo. Sammy." Dean said. He was too goddamn tired to get up and go wake Sam up from another one of his goddamn nightmares.

"Sam."

"Sammy."

"Sammy Boy."

Dean waved his arm, trying to smack the bed across from him. Sam continued to flail, moans getting louder as whatever haunted him got closer.

"Saaaaaaaaaaaaam." He tried once more. No answer. Well, fuck that. He'd have to pry his ass off his bed and go wake his brother up.

"Yo. Sam." Dean said, sitting up so he could reach out and grab Sam's foot. He'd learned long ago to approach his brother with caution when he was having a nightmare. Sam kicked out and continued struggling. Dean sighed and swore under his breath.

"Sam. Wake the fuck up!" Dean yelled, picking the bible up off the bedside table and chucking it at his brother. The bible soared in a perfect arc and bounced off of Sam's twitching face. Score one for the drunk guy.

The effect was instant. Sam shot up like a rocket, wrenching the sheets off of him and gasping for breath. Dean flopped back on his bed.

"Why... does my... face... hurt?" Sam huffed. His eyes fell on the bible next to him on the bed. He picked it up and moved into a sitting position.

"Did you... throw a bible at me?" He asked.

"Yeeeuup."

"You threw a bible at me."

"Figured it was faster than waving my arms and yelling 'Cristo'." Dean replied.

"Are you drunk?" Sam asked.

"Pissed as a banshee."

Sam resisted the urge to grind his teeth and set the bible back on the bedside table.

"Going to ask me about the dream?"

"No. I gotta piss like a banshee too."

Sam sighed and ran his hands through his sweaty hair. "You know that banshees don't-"

He was cut off by the bathroom door.

"Well, fuck you too." Sam grumbled. He started to untangle his sheets but quickly gave up and began eyeing Dean's untouched bed. His brother wouldn't care if he switched beds, he was too drunk to notice anyways. What the hell.

Sam moved over and stretched out on the nice clean blanket.

"Whoa. Either I'm a hell of a lot drunker than I thought or..." Dean's voice came.

"Don't like it, do something about it." Same replied tiredly.

"Okee then." Dean said, flopping facedown on Sam's bed. Sam's anger flared.

"You're a pig, you know that?"

"Hmm?" Dean grunted, facedown in the pile of covers.

"Do you even care about the dreams anymore?" Sam asked.

"'Course I do, Sammy. You just never want to talk about 'em." Dean's green eyes appeared over a fold in the blankets.

"I just dropped hints on you like a ton of bricks..." Sam replied, glaring as the eyes receded back into their blanket pile.

"I'm drunk." Dean whined.

"Yeah, and I'm your brother!"

"Noise please?"

"How about bitch please?!" Sam shouted, picking up the bible and throwing it at his brother's head. It bounced off the top of Dean's skull and hit the floor. Sam huffed and hit the light, rolling over

"Ow." Dean's voice came in the darkness. The score was all tied up now. Sam huffed again and ignored him.

Dean sighed and pushed himself up, putting his feet on the floor and beginning his drunken crusade to his brother's bed.

Sam listened as his brother drunkenly staggered around the bed. There was a small crash as Dean hit the desk chair.

"Shit, who put that there?" Came the growl. Dean picked the chair back up. This room would be hell of a lot easier to navigate if it wasn't so damn small... and maybe if he wasn't so drunk.

Finally, Dean found the edge of the bed facing Sam and climbed onto it. Same tried to roll away, but Dean straddled his hips, holding him in place.

"Jerk." Sam spat.

"Bitch." Dean replied.

"I am not your bitch." Sam began to struggle a little.

"Oh, look who's pinned under the drunk guy." Dean's smirk was practically audible.

The sound of Sam's fist meeting Dean's jaw echoed through the room. Dean collapsed back on the bed, stunned.

"Shit! Dean, I'm sorry! Are you okay?!"

"You hit me."

"I know, I'm so sorry."

"You HIT me."

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm great. Newsflash, Sammy! I got hit with a book and then with your fist!"

The light snapped on, revealing the red mark rising on Dean's jaw, coupled with the death glare he had fixed on his younger brother.

"I'm sorry. I'm wound up." Sam said, sitting up.

"I'll say. What's got a demon bug up your ass?"

Dean watched as Sam sighed and ran his hands through his shaggy hair again before resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

"It was a new one. Not like the visions. Just scary."

Dean sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his face and head. He reached out to touch his brother's elbow, but Sam shied away.

"You did it this time." Sam said quietly.

"Killed her?" Dean asked. "I killed Jess?"

"No." Sam replied.

The room fell silent. Dean lay back. It was two am and he felt like shit. It was about damn time Sam talked or-

"You killed me."

Dean felt like he'd taken another bible to the head.

"Hey, you know I'd never-"

"You choked me, Dean. You choked me, and you fucking enjoyed it." Sam's voice began to rise.

"Hey, hey, hey... Sammy boy, Calm down." Dean soothed, reaching out for his brother again. This time Same didn't resist. Dean ran the back of his knuckles up and down Sam's bicep.

"I don't like it when our relationship is threatened, Dean. Even if it's just in my head."

"Hey. C'mere." Dean said, shifting himself a little and patting his thigh. Sam looked at him like he'd grown a third head.

"What? I used to do this when you were upset."

"Dean, I was seven."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Sam's head, forcing it down to his lap.

"Whoa, Dean... This is a little personal." Sam saaid, painfully aware of how close his face was to Dean's fly.

"Forgive me." Dean replied, jerking Sam's head up by the hair, turning his head to face away from his crotch, and pulling his head back down.

"Ouch, man, why are you so rough with me?" Sam whined.

"Because you're a bitch."

"Can you just hurry up with the comforting? I'd like to go to sleep." Sam complained.

"Hey. You're the one who woke me up. The bible was thrown down, baby brother. You're going to sit here and listen to this chick flick crap while I'm gonna say it because it's only gonna happen once."

Sam sighed and relaxed. Better get it over with.

"Now, you listen to me good and hard, little brother." Dean began, letting his right hand play with Sam's soft hair. Sam frowned.

"Okay." Same replied.

"There is nothing, and I repeat, nothing, on this earth that could keep us separated. We are brothers and we share the same blood. Know what that means? That means that we are connected whether you like it or not. Now, as much as I'd like to wring your girly-ass neck for socking me, that doesn't mean I will."

"Thanks, I think." Sam replied. Dean never really made sense when he tried to give pep talks... Being drunk didn't help him whatsoever.

"You're my little brother, and I'll do anything to protect you, you know that. Even if I have to protect you from myself."

Sam stayed silent. Dean continued playing with his hair.

"Truth is, I love you a lot, Sammy. I don't say it often, but I do."

Dean's words hung heavy in the air. Sam couldn't really think of anything to reply.

"Now, that's enough girl talk. Get your ass into your own bed, bitch." Dean finished, shoving Sam's head off his lap. Sam feel ungracefully onto the floor.

"Jerk."

Dean smiled and flopped back onto his bed. Sam groaned and picked himself up, shutting off the light as he got into bed.

Dean was almost asleep when Sam's voice woke him up again.

"You know that I love you too, right?"

"Mmm?"

"Never mind."

"I didn't hear ya, Sammy. I'm drunk, remember?"

"I love you too, okay?" Sam huffed. Dean chuckled.

"I heard you the first time. Just had to make sure you weren't talking crazy talk. That bible did hit you pretty hard."

THWACK.

"Ouch, Sammy. Why do you have such good aim in the dark?"

"I'm not drunk, jerk."

"Kiss it, punk." Dean growled, chucking the bible back at his brother. It missed wildly and hit the far wall.

"Missed me, missed me." Sam taunted.

"I ain't gonna kiss you." Dean replied, rolling over.

"Good." Sam finished, also rolling over.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Fuck you."

"When?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Just slipped out. Must be brain damage."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you use the lord's name in vain."

"Eat shit, Dean."

"I think that's what I had for dinner."

"Asswipe."

"You'll have to try harder than that."

"Cuntrag."

"Cuntrag? What's that, Sam? A tampon? You callin' me a tampon?"

"..."

"Guess you are. I'm passing out now."

"Good. I'm sick of hearing you talk."

"Ditto."

"Fine."

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean's soft snores began to float across the room. Sam sighed. He sat up and reached down to retrieve the bible from the floor, smoothed out a wrinkle in the cover and set it on the bedside table before sending a fond look in his brother's direction and laying down.

His brother may be the biggest pain in the ass on earth, but he still knew how to make Sam feel better. They were brothers after all. Like Dean said, connected whether they liked it or not.


End file.
